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Sunday, October 5, 2014

“School Market” a story about her mother by Hangama Ahmadzai

It was a lovely summer day.
The breeze was delightful, the sun was welcoming, the birds were out
chirping away and the world seemed at peace with itself. Pashtoona hurried towards her school, not
noticing any of this. She was determined
to be the first to arrive at the Annual School Market to set up her stall. She had no way of telling whether she was
late, early or on time, since she had no watch.
With six siblings and a one-income household it was hard to get clothes,
never mind a watch.

She had been up all night putting the finishing touches to
some of the pieces she would have on display. Her friends all said that she was
talented but she felt otherwise. She was
just doing this to get through this year and then she was off to University. It was that big grown-up world of bigger
books, bigger homework, bigger people and bigger demands. It was even co-ed, which she was a bit
anxious about. She had never studied
with boys before.

Today, though, she
just wanted to get through the day. She
arrived an hour before she was supposed to and noticed that her friend Zeba was
already setting up. That girl never
rested. Her teacher called her an ant
because she worked non-stop and achieved so much. Zeba was Pashtoona’s best
friend in school and a great inspiration.

She hurried to give her friend three kisses and a hug as was
the tradition. They both helped each
other decorate their stalls and display their wares. Zeba was a talented artist. Her depictions of village life had won her
many accolades and awards in school.
Pashtoona admired and respected her friend’s work. On the other hand, her own work was not
something she was proud of but something she did to get good marks.

She knitted and sewed anything that she liked
in the fashion magazines that her father would bring to her every month. She had just finished her best work yet, or
so her mom had told her, a beautiful light pink silk lingerie set, that was
mixed with black lace and felt like soft cashmere on the skin. She didn’t like it much but as soon as she
took it out of the bag her friend dropped what she was doing and immediately
came over to feel the fabric and admire its silkiness and its silhouette.

Zeba declared that this piece would be the first to sell at
the market that day since it was so sensual and beautiful. Pashtoona scoffed at that. She just hoped the
piece was good enough that her teacher would pass her. She had much higher
ambitions that this little school market and a piece of lingerie. Zeba, though, was excited and couldn’t wait
until it all started. She was happily
chirping away about rumours of who would be attending the school market –
including the royal family.

“Why would the royal family visit a small school event?”
Pashtoona asked.

“Well, because it is part of their obligations as rulers of
this land to encourage youth enterprise, and it’s a photo op. I cannot wait
until her majesty comes to my stall and I show off my depiction of the Kuchi
girl,” whispered Zeba, as if the walls had ears.

The day began slowly. A few parents strolled through,
looking at the work of their children and looking around to see what all the
other girls had on display. Most of the
stalls had things for sale except for Pashtoona’s stall. Whatever she had knitted or sewn would go to
her six siblings. She waited shyly and
anxiously. She was not the social
butterfly that Zeba was; she was the quiet one in class and in life in general.

An hour into the market, there was a great commotion as the
teachers rushed in declaring that her majesty Princess Zahra was coming in to
admire the works of the students. This
put Zeba in hyper-attention mode. She
could not sit still or stop talking. Her
excitement transferred to most of the students who had things on display and
soon there was an air of jubilation in the school.

Her highness entered from the main doors with great
determination and a sparkling smile.
Pashtoona had never seen the Princess in person but had heard a great
deal about her beauty and generosity.
She was a great patron of the arts and enjoyed encouraging unknown artists
all the time. Slowly but surely, the
Princess made her way towards Pashtoona’s and Zeba’s stalls.

Zeba was beyond repair at this point and could not control
the shaking in her hands. She was
babbling away, and the teacher had to intervene to ask her to calm down. Princess Zahra made her way towards
Pashtoona`s stall first as something caught her eye. She was looking at the winter coat that Pashtoona
had knitted. It was long, luxurious and
snow white. Everyone had thought she was
crazy knitting a white winter coat but that is exactly what the Princess wanted
to look at.

Pashtoona showed it off with pride in her eyes, and was
amazed when the Princess wanted to buy the coat. But Pashtoona had made this coat for her
eldest sister, Zia, to see her through the harsh winter. What to do? She did not want to insult the
Princess, upset her teacher nor disappoint her sister, but she couldn’t, simply
couldn’t sell it.

At last, she simply explained that the coat was for her
sister, and the princess immediately agreed that the coat should go to a family
member who needed it. She gave Pashtoona
much praise for her bravery to speak the truth and for her generosity to give
the coat to her sister.

The Princess was turning away when she noticed the pink
lingerie. A gasp of “Oo” and “Ahh”
escaped the Princess`s mouth. Her eyes
spoke what her mouth did not say: she wanted the lingerie.

Pashtoona looked over at her teacher. Her eyes were already bulging
from Pashtoona’s refusal to sell the coat. And her friend Zeba looked like she
was about to pass out from all the excitement.
Pashtoona did not know what to do.
She hadn’t planned to sell anything, but on the other hand, none of her
siblings had claimed lingerie.

The money that the Princess offered was beyond generous. Pashtoona
was a bit embarrassed that the Princess would give such a sum for such an
amateurish piece of work but accepted because she did not want to insult the Princess
any further.

Zeba finally passed out and had to be carried to the nurse`s
office. Pashtoona followed her out and
could not celebrate until Zeba woke up.
Once her friend came around, Pashtoona quickly told her what had
happened. Zeba let out a scream of excitement, and did nothing but laugh and
giggle with Pashtoona all day.

With the money from selling the lingerie, Pashtoona bought herself
a watch to make sure she was never late.
She still has it today.

Hangama Ahmadzai is an
instructor at Ryerson University. She enjoys photography, writing poetry and
has recently branched into writing memoirs.

Brian Henry has been a book editor, writer, and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He teaches creative writing at Ryerson University. He also leads weekly creative writing courses in Burlington, Mississauga, Oakville and Georgetown and conducts Saturday workshops throughout Ontario. His proudest boast is that he has helped many of his students get published.